See Me
by Lady Marianne
Summary: "How did you do it?"/"I just heard your voice". Tobias is in a simulation and there's only one person who can break him out. Or, the ending of Divergent from Tobias's POV. One shot.


**AN. If you knew _anything _about me, you really wouldn't be surprised to find me dipping my toes in this fandom. I keep saying that I'm done with sagas, but one way or another, I always find myself drawn back to them. **

**I recently read _Divergent _and -me being me- I couldn't help but thinking what Tobias/Four was thinking during this scene at the end when he has to fight Tris. So of course, I did what I always do: I came to fanfiction to look what other people had to say on the matter. Now, here's the thing: I couldn't find much. I don't know if I didn't know how to search or what, but it was incredibly frustrating. What's worse is that my selfish, bratty muse -who had been sleeping for years- saw this as a good opportunity to get back to work, never mind that I was busy with something else. And thus this was born.**

**This will probably be a one-time thing, meaning I don't see myself writing much more about _Divergent. _Then again, there's always a chance I read the other two books and inspiration just strikes. Maybe, I don't know. I still haven't been able to understand how my brain works -if I did, I would already be working on my own original work by now._  
_**

**Declaimer. as per usual, I owe nothing, not even a copy of the book since it's my sister's and I read it behind her back because I didn't want to deal with her smirk when she realized that I finally cracked and read the book.**

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**SEE ME**

It's not like the fear landscape -the simulation might be the same, but it's also different -more real. Worse.

Marcus stands before me in his gray clothes, with his graying hair looking at me with hatred in his dark eyes. That much hasn't changed. But there's no belt in his hand this time.

Marcus has a _gun_.

There will be no beating around the bush this time. Today we'll fight to the death.

Marcus is going to shoot me. Unless I shoot him first.

I have to shoot him first.

I have to kill him or he'll kill me.

"Drop your weapon," I command.

I know it's wrong of me to ask -I should have already shot him. That's what we do here in Dauntless: shoot first, ask later. But he's still my father, sort of, and I can't bring myself to kill him, not like this. I'm not that cold-blooded.

He just stands there, smirking. He's not going to make things easy and I suddenly find that I don't really care. If this is what he wants, so be it. I aim my gun at him.

"Drop it," I say again. The tiny part in me that's Amity can't cope with the idea of murdering my own father. It doesn't matter in the end because I'm not Amity. I'm Dauntless and here we deal with our problems, we don't hide from them.

In my others simulations I just let Marcus have his way until I stop feeling. That's not going to cut it this time. In this simulation I have to fight. And so I do.

He launches towards me and I pull the trigger. He dodges the bullet and wraps his long fingers around my wrist.

"Tobias."

I hear my name as if it's coming from somewhere really far away. I don't recognize the voice and I don't pause to consider what it means. I have to get this over with. I have to fight.

Marcus and I fight. He kicks me in the ribs and twists my arm until I drop the gun; he goes for the gun but I shove him against the wall. He kicks me and I kick back. He falls and I keep kicking.

This goes on for a few minutes: us, throwing punches and getting kicked at. In the end he slips away from me and makes it to the gun.

"Tobias," he says and I realize that his voice sounds different -kinder. Pleading. I used to plead when I was younger; he never listened to me. I'm not going to listen to him now. I'm not going to be compassionate to a man who never showed me any. "I know you're in there somewhere."

His words are unexpected, but I don't let him see my surprise; I don't let him see me. He doesn't get to know anything about me. I find myself wishing I had killed him sooner, if anything so I don't have to deal with him ever again.

He slowly gets to his feet.

"Tobias, please," he says again. The gun is still trained at my head but his hands are shaking. I take advantage of this and get closer. I'll kill him with my bare hands if I have to. It's probably better this way anyway."Please, see me."

Suddenly the figure before me transforms: the hair grows longer, the nose gets bigger, the eyes turn brighter. I blink and the moment is over, but my heart begins beating faster for some reason.

"Please, see me, Tobias, please!"

I get to him. We are face to face now, closer than we've been in years. He still holds the gun but his hand is almost limp. He's not going to shoot me now. I could easily snatch the gun from his hand and he would probably not even notice. I could do it. I can do it.

But I can't.

_See me_.

I am. I am seeing him. He's the man who turned my life into a nightmare. I still bear the marks of his abuses on my back, hidden under rivers of ink. He is my worse fear and I have to face my fears -I have to _kill_ my fear. I will never be a true Dauntless if I don't. I should kill him. I must kill him.

But I can't kill him.

_See me_, he said.

I see him.

Or do I?

Another flicker. A flash of blond hair. No. I don't see him. For a second, at least, it's not Marcus who stands before me, but someone else... Someone who I don't know, I think. And yet...

_See me_.

I'm trying to.

And then, suddenly, something unexpected happens. I see the resolution in his eyes -no, not _his_; these eyes are brighter than my father's. But I still know these eyes. How? I don't have time to think about it, because he pushes the gun into my hand and places the barrel on his own forehead. Unthinkingly, I click the bullet in place and put my finger on the trigger. I'm going to do it. I'm going to kill him. I am. I am.

_See me_, my father's voice echoes in my head.

_See me_, a softer version of my father's voice whispers. It almost reminds me of the times before everything went to hell, when we were still a happy family.

A soft palm is pressed against my chest and suddenly my breath catches. I know this touch -I've felt it before.

_See me_.

I am. I'm trying. God, I don't even know anymore...

"Tobias," she says softly. _She_, it's a _she_ this time. Definitely not my father. "It's me."

I want to ask who 'me' means, but I can't find my voice.

She steps forward and hesitantly wraps her arms around my waist. My heart goes into override as she does. She presses her body against mine and I can feel her slightly elevated heartbeat as if it were my own.

_Kill her_, a woman's voice commands. This one I recognize –to some extent. She's the one who's been ordering me around for the last hour or so. I should listen to _this_ voice, do as she says. _Kill her_, she says again.

I can't. I can't do it. The warmth of her skin, the sound of her heart beating in my ears... I don't know who this is but I certainly know that I can't hurt her. I'd much rather hurt myself.

_See me_, Tobias, her voice pleads again.

I look down; look at her blonde hair, her blue eyes that are filled with tears. I look and I finally see.

I see a flash of gray clothes dropping onto the net on the first day of initiation.

I see a dark figure making their way up the Ferris wheel.

I see a pair of blue eyes filled with resolution as she stands between the target and my knives.

I see a blonde head barely hanging from the railway over the chasm.

_See me_, she says and this time I do.

I see _her_.

_Tris_.

The loud thud of the gun hitting the floor breaks the last of the haze. Suddenly I'm back in the control room and Tris is wrapped around my body and she's looking expectantly at me.

I almost shot Tris.

I almost _killed_ Tris.

I feel _sick_. Not relieved. Not angry. Certainly not confident or determined as I was a minute ago. Just plain sick.

My hands fly to her shoulders and I press her closer to me. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register that I'm applying way too much pressure and I seem to remember something about her getting shot earlier, but I don't care.

"Tris," I breathe and I see relief flashing in her eyes before I press my mouth to hers.

I want to tell her how sorry I am, how terribly ashamed of myself I feel. I want to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness. I want to urge her to kill me now so I'm sure I'll never do that to her again. I want to ask her why she hasn't killed me already. I want to curl up in a ball and cry. I do none of those things, though, because more than anything else I want to be close to her and just... hold her. I want to hold her and never _ever_ let her go.

With my lips still pressed against her I move my hands to her back and pull her closer to me. I can feel her hot breath in my mouth, her heart beating rapidly against my chest. I haven't cried in years -not since I decided that I had had enough of my father's abuses and that I was going to leave his house as soon as I turned 16-, but I do now. My whole body is shaking, the tears wheal up in my eyes and Tris's arms are the only thing that's keeping me standing right now.

The need for oxygen forces me to pull back. My hands travel across her face and I force myself to memorize her: her features, her warmth... I will not forget her again -I _can't_ forget her again. They won't make me. I'll shoot myself if I have to.

I kiss her again and my heartbeat begins to slow down. When we pull apart this time she pulls herself to my chest and begins crying silently into my shirt. It makes my heart break because she's usually so strong. So strong and I almost broke her. I almost _killed_ her...

"How did you do it?" she asks with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know," I reply. In all honesty I have no idea why I stopped -why I didn't shoot right away. Then I remember. _See me_, she had pleaded and I did. I did what she told me to do. I saw her. "I just heard your voice."

I can tell she's exhausted -she's leaning against me and I'm supporting most of her weight- but I can't tell her to relax just yet. The war is not over; if anything, it's just getting started. I can't even promise her that everything will be okay because I can't know for sure. The future is uncertain for the both of us now and she must know it too. I won't lie to her to spare her feelings because I know she wouldn't appreciate it if I did.

There's only one thing I can be sure of.

I am completely and irrevocably in love with the girl currently in my arms.

**THE END**

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**One final thing, since you made it this far. If you could drop me a quick review to let me know how I did, that would be fantastic. I'm trying out new fandoms, which is kinda nerve-wreaking. Thanks a lot!**


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